


Queen of the 107th

by Fyre



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the 107th are stuck at base and cabin fever sets in, they find their own ways to entertain themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen of the 107th

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a throwaway line from Agent Carter (episode 4) and a prompt on tumblr.

"Seventy-two... seventy-three... oh, hey, Peggy..."

Morita sagged, gasping, in the dirt in front of Dugan. The gust of cold air from the door cut off as the door slammed closed, but he could still feel the chill cut into his chest. "Dammit."

He heard the throaty chuckle of Agent Carter above him. "Having a bout of boredom, are we?"

Morita rolled onto his back to look up at her. She was in camo for a change, which meant she had probably been out scouting. "We've been cooped up here for days," he complained, stretching out his arms. "Dugan was being a jackass."

"And falling on your face on the floor proved him wrong, did it?"

Dugan grinned, knocking Morita on the shoulder. "Told you you couldn't outdo me."

"Outdo what, exactly?" Carter inquired with that tone of voice that everyone in the 107th except Dum Dum had learned to recognise and run and hide from. 

"Push-ups." Cap's voice drifted over from his makeshift bunk by the wall. Morita shot a look at him, and could see the less than innocent smirk playing about his mouth. "I'm not allowed to play. He thinks I've got an unfair advantage."

"Well, one can hardly disagree with that," she agreed, unzipping her heavy overcoat. She tossed it to the Cap, who caught one handed. "Shall we have a little wager, Timothy?"

The look on Dugan's face was worth selling tickets for. Morita shoved himself up on his elbows and grinned.

"How about it, Dum Dum? You tough enough to take on a girl?"

"You might want to be careful about your choice of word, Jim," Monty observed. "We have heard the legends."

Carter smiled that little smile. "How gallant of you to remember, Monty. Tell me, how are your crown jewels?"

Morita sniggered as Monty winced in recollection. "Enough about Monty. Come on, Dum Dum. You gonna take on Carter."

Dugan's bushy brows pulled down and his blue eyes fixed on Peggy. "Sure. I'll even give her a head start."

Cap's quiet laugh drifted over. "Bad idea."

Carter smiled like a cat. "In the matter of sport," she said, "I think we should do this at the same time, don't you? Push-up for push-up. That way, it's fair."

"Peggy..." Dugan protested.

"Oh, hush, Timothy. One would think you were afraid." She rolled up her sleeves. "Shall we begin?"

At first, the audience was only half a dozen of the 107th, as well as Cap and Sarge.

By the time they hit the thirties, more people were drifting over, and money was changing hands. Dum Dum was starting to go red in the face, but Carter hadn't even broken a sweat. She was still smiling that brilliant red smile, and Morita glanced at Cap. Sometimes, when he didn't think anyone was looking, Cap looked at Carter like she was the moon and stars and everything in between. 

"Shall we make this a little more interesting?" she asked, and just like that, lifted one hand and put it behind her back.

Dum Dum made a faint, indignant noise, but he matched her.

And then she just had to make it worse.

She started her count from one again.

"Peg!" Dum Dum wailed.

"What?" She laughed, only a little breathless. "Still want to give me that head start?"

Dugan gave up less than twenty presses later, but Carter was still going.

"I'm pretty sure you can stop now, Agent Carter," Cap said. "You killed the bad Dugan."

"...the hell with you, Cap," Dum Dum moaned from his prone position on the floor. 

"I'd wager any one of you I can hit one hundred," Carter said. Her voice was more clipped, but she was still rising and falling steadily. "Ten pounds and three cigarettes says I'll reach one hundred."

"You serious, Carter?" Jones said in disbelief. "A hundred? One-handed?"

"Yay or nay, boys," she snapped. "I haven't all night. Count, Monty."

"Fifty-four... fifty-five..."

"Gentlemen?"

Glances were exchanged.

No one had the balls when Carter was in that kind of mood. 

No one but Cap.

"Want to make it interesting, Carter?"

She glanced at him. "I'm listening."

"Hit one-oh-seven, and sing the national anthem."

She released a panting laugh. "Oh, you are a beast."

Cap was grinning. "It's been said. So, you game?"

"The wager?"

The Cap pushed off from his knapsack and came over to crouch down beside her. "That briefing two nights ago. You remember?" She nodded, still rising and falling. "I'll get you some more of those cookies."

"Biscuits." She huffed a breath. "And if I win?"

He laughed. "Nice try." He leaned even closer and said impishly. "I could kiss you in front of Colonel."

For someone doing one-handed push-ups with a vengeance, she still managed to sock him hard enough in the chest to make him fall back on his ass, laughing. 

"Ten pounds," she panted, "a carton of cigarettes, Scotch, and one of those sweets you all know I like."

"Seventy-six... seventy-seven..."

"Done," Cap agreed, leaning back on his hands. "Buck, start raiding the bunks. We need a carton of cigarettes."

"She's not done yet, Cap." Dugan mopped at his forehead with the back of his hands.

Cap looked at Dugan in amusement. "You have met Carter, right?" He gestured to her. "About so big, stubborn as a mule? Kicks like one too?"

"When my feet are free, Rogers..." She was breathing harder now.

"Promises, promises," Cap laughed. "Where we at, Monty?"

"Eighty-four..."

Carter's push-ups were getting slower, but her teeth were clenched and she was still going. Her shirt was clinging to her back, and even when the door opened again, and cold air whirled in around them, she kept on going.

"Hey!" Stark exclaimed indignantly. "Why wasn't I invited to the party?"

"Sod off," Peggy panted.

"Ninety-six... ninety-seven..."

Barnes was working his way around the room, raiding everyone's cigarette cartons to fill up his own. Morita reluctantly offered one of his own. It was worth it, he figured, to see Dum Dum flat on his back on the floor, and Cap getting a chance to show what his favourite woman could do. When the Cap was pleased, everyone felt it.

And right now, everyone could feel the tension as Monty said, "One hundred."

"Not bad, Carter." Cap's voice was intent. "You got seven more like that in you?"

Her arm was shaking under her, but she gave him a ferocious look. "Don't push me, Captain..." She sank down more slowly, and was down so long that people started to groan. And as if that was incentive, she pushed herself back up again. 

The next was just as bad.

She could have put down her other arm. Everyone knew it. But she didn't. and damn it, if they weren't all holding their breaths, as she shoved herself back up.

The whole place was silent, except for the Sarge shoving cigarettes into an empty carton. You could have heard a pin drop.

The only sound that broke it was her breathing, as she went down again.

Cap was leaning forward, as if he was willing her to do it.

"How...?" Stark mumbled. "How is she...? I mean..."

"Science, genius," Morita replied, as number one-oh-five came and slowly went.

One hundred and six and she almost faltered, her other arm springing around as if to catch her, and a great roar of dismay went up. Her hand never touched the ground, hovering just above, held their by sheer stiff-upper-lip resolve.

"C'mon," Cap said fiercely. "One more."

"One more!" The words were caught up like a chant, as Carter took gulping breaths. "One more! One more! One more!"

She turned her head and looked at Steve, flashed her teeth. "Just the one, then," she gasped out. And slowly, she lowered herself one more time. She was shaking, and her shirt was soaked, but slowly, painfully, she pushed herself back up.

The roar of approval could have blown the roof off.

Carter sagged down on both forearms, grinning, and rolled onto her back. "God save our gracious King," she groaned. "Noble... centre... victorious... and... the rest..."

Cap caught her arm. Her palm was red and scraped from the floor. He lifted it into the air. "Queen of the 107th!"

Her name was being chanted and Morita couldn't help grinning over at Dum Dum. The other man was clapping his big, meaty hands, and nodding in approval. It wasn't hard to take a beating in good grace when it was such a good one.

Carter flexed her fingers. "I believe someone owes me some cigarettes." She closed her eyes, breathing in hard. "And I must say... I would quite appreciate a drink."

"Managed three quarters of a carton," the Sarge said, tossing it over to Rogers. 

With effort, Carter sat up, and plucked the packet from his hand. "And no Scotch, I expect?"

"Next stop in London?" Cap suggested.

"I suppose." She winced as she got to her feet. She took a second to gather herself, still breathing hard. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I feel I have showboated quite enough for the evening." She raised a hand to salute Dugan. "You were a worthy victim, Timothy."

He got up and held out a hand to her. "I earned that."

She smiled, her lipstick still as red as ever, and shook his hand. "Of course you did." She looked around with a quick nod. "Gentlemen." She turned. "Mr Stark." And then she was out of the tent and back into the night without a glance back at the Cap.

The Sarge nudged the Cap, who glanced back at his knapsack.

"God damn it, Carter!" Cap exclaimed, snatching up Carter's jacket. "You'll get hypothermia!"

He rushed out of the door of the building, letting it fall shut behind him.

"You think she did that on purpose?" Morita inquired, glancing at the Sarge. 

Barnes was watching the doors. "Steve's not used to hints being subtle," he replied. He nodded towards the door as the Cap came back in. Yeah, it was cold outside, but it shouldn't have left his cheeks red. And it definitely shouldn't have left lipstick on his lips. "Carter doesn't do subtle."

Morita stifled a snort of amusement. "They're a match made in somewhere."

For a split-second, the sarge almost smiled. "And they're in charge. God help us."


End file.
